There is an Akan proverb, “Nea owo aka no pen no suro sonsono,” (He who has been bitten by a snake before is afraid of a worm.) This proverb illustrates that past negative experiences can lead to heightened caution; it also implies a need to overcome lingering fears.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve had a fear of heights. Not the fear you can talk yourself out of easily; it tightens your chest, distorts your thinking, and renders you frozen in place. So when I first learned that our group, made up of Ghanaian and American educators, would be doing a canopy walk in Kakum National Park, the anxiety cycle began.
What I didn’t expect was how our journey leading up to that moment would prepare me more than I realized.
Over the course of our time together, our group of teachers shared stories, laughter, meals, educational philosophies, and personal stories. We talked of our students, our challenges, and what inspired us to teach in the first place. Slowly, we built something far more stable than the rope bridges that lay ahead; we built trust.
The morning of the walk, my feet planted at a crossroad, I saw before me a shortcut to the left and to the right, suspended over 50 meters (164 feet) at its highest above the rainforest floor, stretched an expansive canopy walkway: Seven narrow rope bridges swaying between ancient treetops. Spanning 330-350 meters (1080-1150 feet) in length. The walkway itself was composed of one singular plank.
Beautiful? Yes. Terrifying? Absolutely. My Ghanaian and American colleagues surrounded me, cheering me on. I was not alone. Some cracked jokes to lighten the mood. Others simply stood by me in silent support to help me summon courage.
With their encouragement, I took the first step to the right. And then another. The bridge rocked creating an unsettling creaking noise. I kept moving in pace with my friends ahead and behind. Now, with my chin up and my eyes forward, I saw my group, waiting, smiling, arms open. Step by step, remnants of fear gave way to awe. I wasn’t walking above the forest, I was walking above fear itself.
There’s a Ghanaian proverb that says: “Fear is only as deep as the mind allows.” That morning, I realized how true that is. Left to my own devices, my fear of heights might have held me back. Supported by a community that believed in me, I was able to see that fear wasn’t the end of my story, it was the beginning of something braver.
The canopy walk wasn't just about facing a fear of heights. It was about the power of shared experience, cultural exchange, and human connection. It was about rising together.
And now, when fear shows up in my life again (as it always does), I think back to that day in the treetops. I remind myself that I don’t have to be fearless. Instead, I must act as though it is impossible to fail and just keep walking.
Tricia Writer is a 5th grade Language Arts and Social Studies Teacher at The Fenn School in Concord, MA.